Ma Petite
by coffeebuddha
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew aboard The Black Pearl considered themselves to be ready for anything. However, they may have just met their match in the treasured cargo brought on board by a young woman they rescue from a shipwreck.
1. Murphy's Law

Ma Petite  
  
Disclaimer: I'm a fifteen-year-old girl who spends most of her time reading, writing, and wishing that she had enough money to buy that Inuyasha manga that she has been eyeing. What do you think? On a side note, Chantelle and her little piece of 'treasure' do belong to me. If you steal them I will hunt you down like the dog that you are and then be a dirty, rotten snitch about it and tell the authorities at ff.net. *grins* There, that should teach you!  
  
Kristin: The first chapter is rather short, but the rest should be longer. The key word there is should. Not necessarily will, simply should.  
  
***  
  
Unrelenting waves pounded against the side of the small merchant ship while lightening flashed overhead and thunder roared over the sound of the crashing water. The crew worked at a furious pace in a vain attempt to hold the already rickety vessel together. She was coming apart at the seams and by the time the storm had passed, The Dreamer would most likely have been reduced to little more than scrap wood. The planks groaned, an almost imperceptible sound, as swell after swell attempted to rip it to shreds. Her crew stumbled over the rolling decks as wind and waves worked in a joint effort to capsize the enduring craft.  
  
Below the deck, unbeknownst to the crew, a leak had sprung. A young woman pounded at the locked door that barred her from the deck with one hand while she clutched her precious bundle in the other. She cursed the man responsible for her being there in as many languages as she could remember. "Trust me, he says," she hissed venomously. "You'll be safer down there. Merde, that homme is an idiot at times. The least he could have done was left the door unlocked. Yes, just lock me in the flooding room so that I can slowly drown to death. Won't they all share a merry little laugh when they find my cold, dead body."  
  
By this time the salty water had reached her feet. Her long skirts made quick work of absorbing the water, weighing her down considerably. They persistently tugged her back and she slipped slightly on the stairs. Luckily, she stumbled forward, with a force that would likely leave her with bruises later, and crashed into the door, finally succeeding in breaking it open. The salty spray and stinging rain soaked the woman within moments. Azure eyes widened considerably as she feebly attempted to lift herself to her feet.  
  
The mast had cracked, splintered, and then finally broken. What few sails she could see were in such a ragged state that she wouldn't have allowed her servants back home to polish her silverware with them. Pieces of the ship were flying everywhere, as were the sailors. A choked cry slipped from between her lips as a fragment of splintered wood struck one of the crew in the back and gaped through the front of his chest. The blood that poured forth was washed away by the biting rain before the poor man had even fallen to his knees. A feeble cry rose from the bundle clutched protectively to her chest as the woman collapsed once and clutched at the doorframe behind her to keep from being tossed about more than necessary. Consequently, it was also an action that caused her corset to dig into her skin even more painfully, and cut off what little air supply she had left. "Mon Dieu," she murmured, as her mind went numb with shock and lack of oxygen, "We're all going to die."  
  
*  
  
Chantelle Du Pont was awakened several hours later by the combination of uncomfortably rough wood rubbing against the delicate skin of her cheek and the blaring sun shining down so torridly that it seemed as though she was covered by several thick fur blankets during the middle of summer. The first thing that she did was instinctively tighten her arms around her bundle, which had by some miracle managed to stay in her grip, and check it for any injuries. Finding nothing worse than a few bruises, she promptly had her second thought, that her hair and dress were in a worse state then when she had been seven and taken her cousin up on a dare to leap from the hayloft into the pig sty below, dismissed it as foolish before it had even had a chance to truly form itself, and carefully pushed herself up so that she could take a look around her. The first thing that she noticed was that she was no longer on the deck, but on smaller piece of it instead. It was about five feet long and four feet wide, and the realization of this made it seem suddenly difficult to balance on the fragmented wood.  
  
The sight of the devastating wreckage made her already watery limbs weaken considerably more. The Dreamer, true to expectations, had not survived the storm and was reduced to little more than a few splintering boards and a handful of crates that were full of the merchandise the vessel had been carrying. Floating among the debris were numerous oddly colored logs. Chantelle narrowed her eyes slightly as she attempted to make out what the familiar looking logs could be. She didn't remember seeing them below deck, but they were giving her an unwelcome feeling of déjà vu. With a sickening jolt to her stomach, she realized that the 'logs' were the dead bodies of the crew and other passengers. Tears sprang to her eyes as she crossed herself and murmured a soft prayer.  
  
*  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow, mind the word 'captain' thank you very much, was having an unusually good day. The sails were swelled with wind, he finally had his precious ship back, his new crew wasn't showing any signs of mutiny, and he was currently nursing a rather lovely bottle of rum. His usual crooked grin widened slightly as he swallowed another swig of the intoxicating beverage. Nothing could possibly ruin today. "Captain!"  
  
Jack blinked and turned towards the usually calm Anna Maria who was looking a tad bit ruffled. He briefly wondered what the probability of this encounter ending without him getting slapped was, before he suddenly realized that she was speaking again. "-thought you might want to take a look at it." He quickly decided to pretend that he had been listening to her the whole time, letting her know that he had in fact not been listening at all would have surely earned him a slap, and followed her as she turned and headed toward the ship's bow and a rather large crowd that had gathered. Jack cleared his throat and a path was cleared for him toward the object that the crew had gathered around. He felt his carefree grin turn into a proud smirk. Not a mutinous one in the whole lot.  
  
The smirk faltered slightly when he saw the unconscious woman on the deck of his ship. Gibbs was by his side within seconds, muttering about women aboard ships bringing bad luck. A hard glare from Anna Maria shut him up. Jack slowly swaggered toward the woman, motioning as he did so for a couple of the men to lift her to her feet. Her head lolled to the side as she was hoisted up off of the surprisingly clean deck. Even in sleep, the woman clutched something that was wrapped in a prettily embroidered blanket to her bosom, as though it were her lifeline. A groan slipped from between slightly parted lips and eyelashes fluttered faintly against raw, burnt skin. Jack grinned and tapped a fingertip against her sunburned cheek. "Time to wake up, lovey."  
  
The woman's eyelids flickered open to reveal feverish eyes. "Non, Henri," she mumbled weakly in a rather hoarse voice, "Pas ce soir, s'il vous plaît."  
  
"You do that," Jack began brightly, his grin confused for a few moments before he shrugged it off and continued, "And I'll just take this so that you don't accidentally break whatever it is." He reached to take the burden from her arms and was slightly surprised when she shrieked like a banshee and struggled to back away from him. Jack's grin widened considerably. Whatever she was holding must have been pretty valuable. If it was worthless then he doubted that she would have reacted so strongly.  
  
Unfortunately for her, the woman's violent reaction cost her what was left of her energy and she was unable to do anything but watch with terrified horror in her delirious eyes as the pirate pulled her precious bundle out of her weak grasp. Jack's grin slipped a bit when the 'treasure' he had just commandeered began to squirm. It disappeared completely when a miniature hand emerged from the blanket, wound its chubby little fingers around his beard, and pulled roughly. His eyes wide, Jack unwrapped the bundle completely to reveal a tiny baby. Now it was Jack's turn to watch in horror as the infant gurgled happily and then promptly shoved his beard in its mouth. Damn, and the day had started off so well.  
  
***  
  
Kristin: Is the Mighty Captain Jack Sparrow truly afraid of a little baby? How did Chantelle and her kid survive when everyone else met with a doomy- watery doom? Will 'Captain' Jackie-poo be forced to become a father figure? Will he ever get his beard out of the little tyke's mouth? Tune in next time to find out! (Some of these questions will most likely not be answered in the next chapter. You were duly warned.)  
  
Translations:  
  
Ma Petite- my little one  
  
Merde- Curse word that I believe is the equivalent of damn. Please, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.  
  
Homme- man  
  
Mon Dieu- my God, or my goodness  
  
Non- no  
  
Pas ce soir, s'il vous plaît - Not tonight, please. (Again, feel free to correct me. I'm not using an online translator; merely a rather crappy French dictionary and I haven't taken French yet. When school starts again I'll be taking Latin, and I don't plan on taking French until I'm a senior, which won't be for another two years.) 


	2. A Ship of Pirates and a Baby

Ma Petite  
  
Disclaimer: Seeing as it gets a bit redundant to have one of these at the beginning of every chapter, I've decided that the disclaimer in the first chapter is good enough for the entire story. If the situation should change, I'll inform you.  
  
Kristin: Sadly, this chapter is even shorter than the last one. Oops.  
  
***  
  
Captain Jack's usual front of nonchalant optimism abandoned him the moment that the little demon in his arms began to cover his beautiful beard with its drool. Why didn't it just go ahead and burn his hat while it was at it? With a somewhat reproachful glare, Jack grasped his beard firmly in his hand and yanked it out of the child's mouth. The pint-sized menace stared up at Jack, its blue eyes already filled with tears. With only this as a warning, the baby scrunched its eyes closed, opened its mouth as wide as it could, and screamed piercingly. As the rest of the crew clapped their hands over their ears, Jack attempted to shove the braided length back into the creature's mouth; he had decided that the thing couldn't possibly be human, nothing human could ever make such an awful racket. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done and the child no longer wanted its new chew toy. Jack winced as his hand was pushed away by two surprisingly strong, miniature ones and the screaming continued, now even more shrilly than before.  
  
"Donner me Joelle!" Jack's head snapped toward the child's mother, who had collapsed back onto the deck after the men holding her had loosened their grips in order to save their ears. How he had ever managed to hear her feeble voice over the baby's ear shattering, and quite accurate, imitation of a tortured prisoner would forever remain a mystery. The woman's eyes were bloodshot and wild with fever, caused by both concern for her child and illness; however, as her eyes locked with Jack's they seemed to clear for a moment and she tried again. "Give me Joelle. You are upsetting her." With a grimace, Jack shoved the girl into her mother's up stretched arms.  
  
"Just make her stop yowling, savvy?" The change was instantaneous. Once back in the woman's familiar arms and thoroughly comforted by gentle murmurings in French, Joelle immediately began smiling with a happy burble, tangled one hand in her mother's limp tawny curls, and used her other hand to shove a silver rosary into her mouth. Now that her daughter was calm again, the Frenchwoman seemed to lose what little control over her body that she had gained back during her frantic worrying.  
  
"Je ne me sens pas bien," she said slowly, in a surprisingly clear voice, before fainting. Joelle giggled gaily as she rolled out of her unconscious mother's arms and on top of the toes of Jack's boots. With one more cheerful babble, she latched her lips onto his pants and began to merrily gum away at them.  
  
*  
  
The shipwrecked woman, who was probably quite pretty when her face wasn't covered with a sunburn that made her resemble a lobster, that they had rescued was not only in his quarters, but lying in his bed wearing nothing but her shift. Why then was Jack in such a foul mood? Because, Anna Maria refused to let him in the room with the little French strumpet. The civilized conversation that the two pirates had had about the situation was long, loud, and ended with Jack giving up his rooms with nothing more to show for it than a throbbing cheek. However, this wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that while Anna Maria played the part of the nurse in the little drama that sprung up aboard the Black Pearl, he was left to watch after the baby. Yes, the fearsome Captain Jack Sparrow, who had beaten the odds and the undead just to get his ship back, had been turned into a nanny.  
  
He didn't even want to think about the fact that they had just brought two completely useless people onto his ship, who would be eating his food, sleeping in his bed, which would have been alright if he had been allowed to join the young woman, and in return do nothing but convert oxygen into carbon dioxide. He hadn't even been able to get any loot out of it. The woman's dress had been at the pinnacle of fashion and, even with the few tears that were strewn across it, would have fetched a good price. Unfortunately, the delicate, light green silks that the dress was made of had been ruined beyond repair by the briny seawater. The silver rosary that hung around the woman's neck was of fine quality, but the words engraved on the back of the cross would make it difficult to sell. Another option was the almost obscenely large diamond that adorned her left ring finger, but once again there was the annoying trouble with all of that nasty engraving business.  
  
The only good thing, if it could even be called that, that had come out of all the writing on the jewelry was that Anna Maria was now fairly certain that the woman's name was Chantelle Du Pont. What kind of names were Chantelle and Joelle, anyways? Couldn't the French come up with anything better than those? Somebody should go over to that country and teach them a few better names. Sure, a name like Chantelle could roll off the tongue in such a way that it seemed to leave a pleasant flavor in the speaker's mouth, but it sounded almost too fancy for everyday use. What use was a name that was unsuitable for anyplace but a ballroom?  
  
Jack frowned at Joelle, who was laying at his feet, smacking the deck with the palms of her hands and squealing with delight at the slapping sound that resulted. With a small grimace, he scooped her up into his arms. "Stop that now, lovey, or you might give yourself a splinter. Not that I care, just that I don't want to have to listen to your screaming again if it can be helped, savvy?"  
  
The tiny girl looked up at Jack with a look of mild unhappiness for a moment before grabbing his braided beard in her hands once again and pulling on them as roughly as possible. Now that his face was nearly level with hers, Joelle released his beard, clasped his face between her chubby hands, and blew a raspberry at him. Squeaking with delight, she released his face and began to chew on his beard again. With a resigned sigh Jack allowed her to continue. After all, at least she had stopped screaming.  
  
"WAAAAAAAA!"  
  
Jack groaned and began to massage his temples. Why did he always have to be wrong?  
  
*  
  
An hour later, after learning from Anna Maria that part of taking care of children was feeding them, Joelle was finally calming down. She had filled herself up with milk that Anna Maria had managed to procured from someplace, Jack didn't know or even want to know where she had gotten it, and was chortling happily around Jack's beard, which now smelled like sour dairy. He looked down sharply when the pressure on his beard suddenly disappeared and the little burden in his arms began to squirm. To his shock, Joelle was yawning as widely as her tiny mouth could manage. Her yawn finished, she looked up at Jack with sleepy, half-lidded eyes, cooed lackadaisically, snuggled up closer to his chest, and fell asleep. Jack began to laugh with disbelief but quickly stopped when the shaking jostled Joelle, who frowned in her sleep before nuzzling closer to him.  
  
After quickly checking that nobody was watching him, Jack allowed the tips of his lips to quirk upwards. He trailed a fingertip down her pudgy cheek and silently marveled at how soft her skin was. It may have just been the hysterical relief talking, but now that she was asleep, Joelle was actually rather cute. The twitching corners were about to widen into a full smile when he noticed the smell and remembered what Anna Maria had told him about having to change diapers. Jack smiled darkly. "Oh, this is just getting better and better, isn't it."  
  
***  
  
Kristin: I don't know why, but I absolutely love that baby. Isn't she just the most kawairashii thing on the face of the earth? I haven't decided if I'm going to kill off Chantelle and force Captain Jack to take care of Joelle, or if her mother will recover from the dreadful illness that she has been stricken with. If the later occurs, then she will not recover until after our favorite captain has become completely enamored with the little squirt. Give me your opinion on this matter. I need help deciding. On an entirely different note, am I torturing Jack too much?  
  
Translations:  
  
Donner me Joelle- Give me Joelle  
  
Je ne me sens pas bien- I do not feel well  
  
Special Thanks:  
  
Hero McAllen- You're my first reviewer, and you were sweet! I could just kiss you! Well, maybe not, but thanks tons anyway.  
  
Eskimo- *looks around* Mary Sue? Where? Must. Kill. Mary. Sue. *shudders* Dang. Mary Sues scare me. Nobody can be that perfect without being the spawn of Satan or something.  
  
TheHumanHobbit- I don't think I did that great of a job keeping him in character for this chapter, but then again, you never really know how people will react in situations like these. *grins cheekily* Thank you for the huge compliment. I know I don't deserve it, but it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside anyway.  
  
Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito- Hi! I'm almost certain that I recognize your name. Of course, this is coming from a girl who constantly calls her best friend by the wrong name, so who knows? I loved that ending too. Isn't Joelle kawaii? 


	3. No Use Crying Over Spilled Rum

Ma Petite  
  
Kristin: *stares at the readers in shock* After getting a grand total of four reviews for the first chapter I didn't think that this story would really capture the attention of anyone. *attempts to imitate one of Jack's grins and almost succeeds* You people are simply lovely and if anyone tells you different, then I'll smack them with a trout, savvy?  
  
Also, I would like to apologize about the entire merde thing, offer thanks to all who told me what it meant (I was close!), and say that the error in translation should be fixed soon. The same goes for the entire 'Donner me Joelle' sentence.  
  
***  
  
After changing the first diaper of his life, Jack had a newfound respect for all mothers and nursemaids. He had never thought that changing a diaper could be so emotionally draining. His usual grin, which had already been absent most of the day, showed no signs of ever returning to its rightful place upon his face. It wasn't that Joelle was a particularly bad baby; it was just that she was the embodiment of all that was evil in the world and wanted to drive him insane. All that he wanted to do was curl up with his beautiful bottle of rum. He didn't need a woman at the moment; even just thinking about one for the time being reminded him that more Joelles could be created by the comfort he would have looked for. The rum would do just fine on its own. Speaking of his rum, where had it gotten to?  
  
As he scanned the deck for signs of his rum, Jack slowly became aware of the unsteady clinking noise that was coming from behind him. It sounded almost like the noise of a bottle being rapped against the deck. Jack whirled around just in time to witness his precious bottle of rum being lifted by Joelle's wobbly baby arms. It wavered in the air for a moment before coming back down. Time seemed to slow as the bottle descended, hit the deck, and shattered. The scream that erupted from Jack's mouth made Joelle sound like an amateur.  
  
*  
  
Anna Maria emerged from the captain's quarters, now a makeshift hospital room, only to have her ears assaulted by the sound of heart-wrenching screams. She frowned and followed the sound of the cries, mentally preparing a lecture for her captain about not terrorizing children. To her shock Jack was the one who was nearly in tears by the time that she arrived. In fact, Joelle, who was sitting on the deck with a rather dangerous broken bottle, was gazing wide eyed at Jack with a look of awe on her little face. The look on Jack's face was composed of mourning, helplessness, and more than a little insanity. "Captain? What happened?"  
  
"She. Demon child. Broken. Rum! My rum!" The last sentence, which had been said in a rather unmanly whine, clicked with the broken bottle, which Joelle was still playing with, and Anna Maria realized exactly what had happened. With a heavy sigh she took the broken glass pieces away from the baby, who gave a short shriek of indignation, tossed them over the side of the ship, and pull a flask of her own rum from her pocket to give to Jack. While he began to drain the contents, the female pirate lifted Joelle into her arms. Now that he was calmer Jack suddenly seemed to realize who was standing in front of him. "How is the girl's mother?"  
  
Anna Maria raised her gaze from Joelle's huge, angelic eyes, which were making her maternal instincts kick in, and gave Jack an incredulous glance. "You actually care?"  
  
Jack took another swig from the flask and nodded briskly. "The sooner the creature's mother is healthy, the sooner I can get rid of that little drool- maker, savvy?" Slap! "I didn't deserve that," Jack muttered as he rubbed his cheek.  
  
"Honestly, Captain, it can't be that hard to take care of one baby." Jack's eyes took on a calculating look as he attempted to formulate a plan.  
  
"Then why don't you take care of it and have one of the crew watch the woman who spawned it." Jack dodged the second slap, but Anna Maria's knee managed to catch him in the stomach, which was a bit more painful. Looked like his plan wasn't going to work after all.  
  
"You are asking me to willingly hand over the well being of a defenseless woman to a group of men that are led by you," Anna Maria exclaimed while pressing Joelle back into his arms and snatching away her flask. " No. You will watch the baby, and I will watch Chantelle. I swear, you stupidity is amazing at times."  
  
Jack pouted slightly at Joelle as Anna Maria stalked off. "And here I was thinking that I was the captain," he complained to the giggling baby.  
  
*  
  
Over the next several days Jack slowly became more accustomed to toting Joelle around with him nearly everywhere he went during the daytime; at night Anna Maria took her so that the crew, who Jack was bunking with due to his current lack of rooms, would be able to sleep without waking up every few hours for feedings or diaper changes. While he still didn't like the baby, he was beginning to look at her with more consideration. After the adventures of the first day Joelle calmed down considerably and began to constantly look around as though looking for something or someone. It wasn't until the third day that Jack realized that the child was searching for Chantelle, who had finally woken up only to begin hallucinating in her native language. Still, he was awfully tempted to throttle the infant when she snatched his hat off of his head and tossed it into the ocean. Still, he managed to hold back his initial reaction and instead opted for pushing Mr. Gibbs in after the hat to retrieve it. What's more, his trademark smile once more adorned his face, although it seemed a bit more forced than before.  
  
After a week and a half of forced exile from his rooms, Jack finally gave Joelle to Anna Maria and ventured into his quarters to get a bottle of his special rum. He was nearly back out the door, his liquor in hand, when he chanced a glance over at his bed. The sight was nerve-wrecking to say the least.  
  
Chantelle's sunburn had already peeled and healed completely, leaving behind sickly pale skin except for her cheeks which were flushed with heat. She was little more than skin and bones; not surprising considering her illness wouldn't let anything stay in her stomach long enough to be digested. One hand restlessly plucked at the rosary that still hung around her neck while the other patted and smoothed the wrinkle sheets she was wrapped in. Her mouth moved as though she was speaking and as Jack moved closer, unaware of what he was doing, he could hear her chattering away to herself in French. When he neared the side of the bed, Chantelle looked up at him with blank eyes and spoke sincerely. "Je suis narvé désolé." She didn't seem to notice the confused look on Jack's face as she continued pleasantly. "Je vous remercie de votre hospitalité. Nous nous sommes bien amusés."  
  
With a dismissive wave of her hand, Chantelle turned her head away for a moment. Jack nearly sighed in relief before he found himself once again lost in her lifeless gaze. "Garçon apportez-nous du pain, s'il vous plaît." At this point she smiled politely and grasped his hand in her own. Her fingers felt like ice, burning his skin with freezing fire. As he tried to pull away, the young woman pressed her other hand against his palm in a manner that suggested she thought she was handing him something. "Vous pouvez garder la monnaie."  
  
Her task completed, she let go of Jack's hand and began to pluck at her necklace once again. Jack backed away, slowly at first, although gradually picking up speed so that when he backed into the door, he was nearly stumbling over himself in his haste.  
  
The next morning Chantelle's fever broke only to be replaced by her screams of terror.  
  
***  
  
Kristin: Argh! These chapters seem to be getting shorter and shorter. I will try to make the next one longer. I mean it this time!  
  
Now, nobody told me to kill Chantelle and there were several people who told me to keep her. (One person even suggested that I set her up with Jack. It does have possibilities, but I don't know if I'll do it.) She is getting better, but there is still a way that I can kill her. At the moment I think that I want her alive, but I'm just not sure how to work it if I have her recover. There are several paths I could follow and most all of them are calling to me. I suppose I will just have to decide when I get there.  
  
Translations:  
  
Je suis narvé désolé- I am terribly sorry.  
  
Je vous remercie de votre hospitalité- Thank you for your hospitality.  
  
Nous nous sommes bien amusés- We had a very good time.  
  
Garçon apportez-nous du pain, s'il vous plaît- Waiter, bring us some bread, please.  
  
Vous pouvez garder la monnaie- Keep the change.  
  
Special Thanks:  
  
Kalaratri- Thanks for the idea of having Joelle do something to his hat. *grins evily* If you have any other ideas that I can use, please tell me. I need more things to torture Jack with.  
  
Miss-Taken-Love  
  
Haeniliel  
  
HealerAriel- *stares blankly for a moment* Want a job beta reading my French? It doesn't pay much, but you would get to read the chapters before anyone else.  
  
Mona Lisa- I love your screen name.  
  
T  
  
Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito- I know that I know your name. I finally remembered after beating my head against the wall for an hour asking how I knew your name. Nice to see you again!  
  
Kate- Interesting idea, but I'm not sure if it will happen.  
  
Min  
  
Future tkd blackbelt  
  
Seiko  
  
T_Lev  
  
Ermine aka Tree  
  
Lt. Eagle Eyes  
  
Kana- Got any real life experiences that I can play off of for torturing Jack?  
  
Neola  
  
Midnights shadow  
  
Rogue Sparrow  
  
Cassaddy- Yay! An actual critique! I love it when my work is critiqued, because then I can work to make it better. Let's see now, I don't care for the first chapter at all either, and when the story is over I might rewrite it. You're the first person who has told me to kill Chantelle. I'm starting to get a bit attached to her, but if I feel that I have to, then I'll kill. If she does die, then it won't be for a few more chapters.  
  
Laurie  
  
Lovely Lily- I'm jealous of her too.  
  
Mariam- Anna Maria and Jack? *frowns slightly* No offense, but I always saw them as having more of a dysfunctional sibling relationship. However, Anna Maria will probably make an appearance in just about every chapter. Will that make you happy?  
  
Celeste 


End file.
